


Excursion

by ZaliaChimera



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Affection, F/M, Fluff, Happy, Nicknames, Sweet, Trust, Zombie Apocalypse, post apocalyptic dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:28:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8516680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaliaChimera/pseuds/ZaliaChimera
Summary: Everyone needs to break the rules sometimes.





	

“Oh, come on, Jenny. It’ll be worth it.”

Janine gives him a stern look. “Mr Lauchlan,” she begins, and she only ever calls him that when she’s trying to pretend that she isn’t interested. Even on missions now, it’s Simon, or sometimes Si. He sort of wishes he could have seen Sam’s face the first time she said it. “Mr. Lauchlan. You are aware that we have a curfew for a reason. Only authorised personnel should be out at night.”

“Uh… you’re kind of the boss. I think you can do what you want,” Simon points out. He smiles, a lazy curl of his lips.

She folds her arms across her chest and huffs. “That isn’t the point. Part of my position is setting a good example.” 

“It’s just for five minutes,” Simon replies quickly. He’s got this all sorted out. “It’s not even going anywhere near the walls. it’s not disturbing anyone. No-one will even see us.”

Her lips are pressed tightly together, but there’s that look in her eyes, the one she only gets when she’s thinking of indulging him. He recognises it by now, and it makes warmth flood his chest to see it. He leans in, presses his lips close to her temple so he can smell her hair. Alright, it’s not exactly flowers and fruit here; shampoo is tightly rationed and none of them are as clean as they’d like, but you get used to it. It smells like her. “Please.”

He can fee; the tension bleed out of her, the way her shoulders slump as the pressure of holding herself stiff and unapproachable all day ebbs away. “Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

He suppresses the urge to whoop, knowing that’ll just make her dig her heels in over a silly request. Instead he takes her hand and pulls her towards the door. She resists for a moment, but then follows after him, her fingers curling around his. She’s very warm. You don’t think she would be, what with the aloofness, but she’s like a furnace. 

The air is crisp, and the sky clear. That’s the point really. Simon tugs her off to the left, around the farmhouse and towards the housing block, holding always, the radio tower in his sights. 

They’re almost there when they spot a moving shadow. Simon dives back behind the building as one of the night guars walks past, making their nightly check. He presses back against the wall until the man has passed, and only then lets out a breath.

“Close call,” he says, and flashes a smile at Janine.

Janine raises an eyebrow at him. “You do realise that if we had been caught, then I would have just explained. I am the boss.”

“Yeah,” Simon concedes, “but this is way more fun.”

Even in the dark, she can’t hide it, can’t hide the little smile at the corner of her mouth. He doesn’t say anything more, before they’re moving again.

They get out to the tower and Simon hoists himself up the ladder first. It’s not that tall, not by pre-apocalypse standards anyway. But there’s a platform at the top, and everyone is home safe so even the red light isn’t on. There’s a little platform at the top, and Simon reaches it and offers Janine a hand up. She takes it, even though she doesn’t need it, and that makes his heart flutter, just a bit.

“What are we here for?”

Simon points upwards. Right up to the sky. Janine tilts her head up and he hears her little gasp of surprise.

The apocalypse has been shit for everyone. He misses his gym, he misses TV and his phone, and going for a run that doesn’t put his life at risk. he misses not having to make any decisions beyond what he wants to eat or do at the weekend.

But it’d also taken out the lights. And there’s virtually nothing on in Abel itself. The Milky Way stretches out above them, flecks of silver against the black. Simon can’t name them; he was never the sciency type. But it’s pretty. 

She’s pretty. She probably knows the name of every star. Seems like the sort of thing she would know anyway. He’s watching her more than the sky by now, her wide eyed wonder that erases some of the tired lines from around her eyes. 

“Alright,” she says, her voice so soft that he barely hears it. “This was worth it.”

“Really?”

She smiles, a real one, and turns to him. “Thank you.”


End file.
